


Comfort Given is Comfort Granted

by Wolfling



Series: You Still Have Me [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Grieving, M/M, Pre-Slash, Stilinski Family Feels, but just briefly, could be read as gen though, post 3b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:18:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1484350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfling/pseuds/Wolfling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles stared at his phone for a long moment after the message finished, though he already knew what he was going to do. Despite Scott's attempt to hide it, Stiles clearly heard the tiny tremor in his voice that signalled he wasn't doing nearly as well as he was trying to seem. There was no way that Stiles could hear that and not be there for Scott. No matter how messed up he himself was still feeling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort Given is Comfort Granted

**Author's Note:**

> So season 3B gave me ALL the Scott/Stiles feels. I knew long before the season was over that I would be trying my hand at writing them getting together in the aftermath. That's what this series is. I had originally thought to do it as a multi-chaptered long fic, but the first two chapters both seemed to read to me much more like individual but linked stories so we're going to go with a series format instead.
> 
> And although I'm writing this as pre-slash, this fic could definitely be read as gen if so desired (hence the dual gen and m/m tags on it)

Afterwards, Stiles slept for 12 hours straight before the nightmares trumped the exhaustion. He woke up to an empty house, his favourite sandwich in the fridge from the sub shop near the station, a note from his dad telling him to _eat_ , and a voice mail from Scott.

He put off listening to the latter by obeying the former and sitting down to eat the sandwich. His appetite came roaring back after the first bite, reminding him he couldn't actually remember the last time he had ingested anything more substantial than tea, so it wasn't long before the sandwich was gone and he was left with nothing to distract him from the voice mail notification shining accusingly up at him from his phone. 

It wasn't that he didn't want to listen to it, it was just that at the moment he was doing an okay job of Not Thinking About Things and he knew talking to anybody would make Not Thinking impossible. So it took him a few more minutes to steel himself before he played the message.

"Hey, Stiles, guess you must still be asleep -- which is good! You deserve to get some rest after everything. I was just calling to see how you're doing and if you wanted to..." Scott sighed heavily. "Never mind. It's not important. Just... get your strength back. I need you to get better."

Stiles stared at his phone for a long moment after the message finished, though he already knew what he was going to do. Despite Scott's attempt to hide it, Stiles clearly heard the tiny tremor in his voice that signalled he wasn't doing nearly as well as he was trying to seem. There was no way that Stiles could hear that and not be there for Scott. No matter how messed up he himself was still feeling.

He called his dad as he headed upstairs to change. 

Dad picked up after the first ring. "Stiles?" Worry not quite as well masked as he was obviously trying for.

"I'm fine," Stiles said quickly, wondering how long they were all going to be one step away from a freakout. "Ate my sandwich and everything."

He clearly heard Dad's sigh of relief and when he spoke the words held more humor than worry. "You called me to tell me you were fine?"

"No," Stiles said, then thought about it as he dug out some clean jeans and a t-shirt out of his closet. "Well, sort of I guess? I wanted to let you know that I'm going over to Scott's." He didn't usually call his dad with a play by play of his planned movements. A few months ago he would've just left a note if that, but after everything that happened, Stiles knew he was going to be super conscientious for a while about keeping his dad informed about where he was at all times. "He left me a message when I was asleep and... I just really need to be there."

"Okay, kid," Dad said, voice soft with understanding. "Thanks for letting me know."

"Yeah, well, I'm going to try and be better about checking in. I probably shouldn't admit this, but at the moment if you wanted to put a GPS tracker on me, I'd let you."

"You shouldn't tempt your old man like that," Dad joked. "But there's no need to go that far. Just keep your phone with you. If needed, I can track _that_."

Stiles actually grinned at that. "Going with the old tried and true methods, huh? I like it."

There was muffled background voices on his dad's end of the line. "I gotta go, but call me if you need anything."

"I promise. Love you."

He could hear his dad pause at that. It wasn't something that in the past he'd been very good about saying regularly, but this was another thing he was determined to be more conscientious about doing. Life was just too uncertain not to. "I love you too, son," Dad replied and Stiles thought he could almost hear him making the same vow. 

After he and Dad had hung up, Stiles quickly got ready, changing into the clothes he got out, and brushing his hair and teeth. He paused to look into the bathroom mirror when finished with the latter and was pleasantly surprised at what he saw looking back. He still was a little pale, there were still shadows under his eyes, but now he just looked tired instead of two steps away from dead. And at this point, Stiles was willing to take whatever progress he could see as a victory of sorts.

He was just going to ignore for now the way he couldn't meet his own eyes any more.

The drive over to Scott's was accomplished in silence, more because Stiles didn't want to take a chance of stumbling over any news reports of the massacre at the hospital and police station than any desire to be alone with his thoughts. He actually spent the drive trying not to think about anything much at all.

When he got there, he hesitated on the front porch. Normally he'd go right in as if it was his own house, only deigning to knock before opening the door when he was sure Melissa was going to be home and he was trying to get on her good side. But after everything that had happened Stiles was pretty sure that him waltzing into anywhere uninvited was going to be a bad thing for a while so he knocked and then actually waited for someone to come and let him in.

It was Melissa who opened the door. She looked surprised to see him -- not _bad_ surprised, but surprised just the same. "Stiles?"

Stiles felt suddenly awkward standing there. "Uh, hi," he said, punctuating his words with a half hearted wave. "I... Is Scott here? I... uh... I probably should have called first, but-"

Melissa cut him off by the simple expedient of grasping him by the arm and pulling him inside. "You're always welcome here," she told him firmly, making a point of holding his gaze with her own when she spoke. She stepped back then, giving him a once over. "How are you? You look... better."

"Well I'm not possessed or dying, actually managed to get more than an hour or so of sleep and I actually ate some food as opposed to chaos and strife, so yeah, I am better." He paused. "But given the particulars, that's a really low bar to clear."

He suddenly found himself enveloped in a hug from Melissa. It wasn't quite as comforting as a hug from his dad -- nothing was -- but it was still pretty awesome nonetheless. "Low bar or not, I'm glad to see it," she told him. "Scott's in his room," she added, when she pulled back.

Stiles nodded and took a step towards the stairs, then paused. "Is he... How is he?"

Melissa just gave him a sad smile and shook her head a little. "He'll be glad to see you," she said and made a little shooing motion towards the stairs, so Stiles let himself be convinced to start moving again.

Scott's bedroom door was closed, so Stiles knocked, but this time he didn't wait to be let in. It was _Scott_. Waiting would just be too weird.

Scott was stretched out on his bed and was just starting to sit up by the time Stiles got the door open. His eyes were red -- like he'd been crying, not Alpha red -- but he gave a genuine smile when he saw who it was. That made Stiles feel better about his decision to come over.

"Hey," Scott said. "I didn't think I'd see you today."

"Turns out no matter how sleep deprived I am, there's only so much sleep I can handle at one time." He crossed the room and sat beside Scott on his bed. "I got your message."

Scott grimaced. "Sorry about that," he said. "I wasn't thinking... you deserve a day at least to just... be. I shouldn't have bothered you."

"Yeah you should have," Stiles said firmly. "You should always bother me. You're my best friend. That comes with all inclusive bothering privileges. Actually it's more like bothering responsibilities because when you need to bother someone I expect that someone to be me-" He stopped talking when he saw Scott watching him with a tiny smile. "What?"

"Nothing," Scott said, ducking his head though the smile remained in place. "It's just... it's good to have you back."

The sheer happiness that was imbued in Scott's words, pulled a small smile to Stiles' face as well. He nudged Scott's shoulder with his own. "It's good to _be_ back," he said, acknowledging that out loud for the first time. He hadn't really let himself dwell on that too much what with all the bad things that had happened.

Scott returned the shoulder nudge, but didn't say anything and they sit there in silence for a while. It wasn't exactly comfortable because of the huge grief stained elephant in the room, but at least it was familiar. Scott had sat with Stiles just like this a lot after his mom had died when Stiles hadn't felt up to talking, but the last thing he'd wanted was to be alone. It had helped him immeasurably then, just knowing that Scott was _there_ , so if his presence could help Scott even one tenth as much, Stiles was going to put his own issues on hold and just be there for him.

He wasn't even sure how much time had past when Scott finally spoke. "It still doesn't seem real. That she's..."

"I know." Stiles swallowed hard on anything else he could've said. There wasn't anything he could say that would make it at all better, he knew that, and if he let himself try he was probably going to end up pouring his guilt all over Scott and that was the last thing his friend needed.

Scott glanced over at him, his expression hesitant. "Was... was it like that when your mom died?"

Stiles closed his eyes against the sudden, visceral memories the question invoked, but he tried to answer it as best he could. He owed Scott that. "Yeah," he said, not surprised at all at how hoarse his voice sounded. "For a long time. I even... I'd almost forget and find myself thinking stuff like I needed to get my homework done early so we could go to the hospital after dinner to visit and then I'd remember."

Scott nodded at that. "It's like I keep getting ambushed by the reality. My mind drifts and then I think ' _Allison's dead_ ' and everything just..." He trailed off, voice breaking.

"I know." Stiles slung an arm over Scott's shoulders in a sort of side hug that quickly turned into a full on hug when Scott turned towards him, wrapping his arms around Stiles' waist and burying his face in Stiles' neck. He wasn't sure if Scott was actually crying or not, but he held on tight either way. 

It was after a moment when he noticed that Scott was inhaling deeply and evenly that he figured it was less crying and more scenting. Still, if it was helping he wasn't going to complain about getting sniffed.

"Sorry," Scott said, when he finally pulled back, looking sheepish and yep, Stiles caught his eyes fading from Alpha red back to his usual deep brown. "That was...."

Stiles waved the apology away. "Dude, I'd let you do a lot more than sniff me if it helps."

"Just having you here helps," Scott told him earnestly. "I mean nothing makes it hurt less, but having you here reminds me it could've hurt _worse_."

And that alone was enough reason to be happy he'd survived and Stiles knew it was going to be something he would cling to when he got blindsided by guilt in middle of the night. It wasn't going to make him feel less guilty, but at least it would help him remember him surviving was a good thing.

**Author's Note:**

> [My tumblr](http://fwolfling.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> I have the second fic in the series written, it just needs some editing so it will hopefully be up soon.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Lost and Found (The Quartet Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1567532) by [destroythemeek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/destroythemeek/pseuds/destroythemeek)




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